image [https://img.wattpad.com/story_parts/1499702265/images/180cfbab2d070c43632505004796.jpg]

"I hope you know I'll survive this just to make you pay, Sylus," you hiss at him through the earpiece.

"That's the spirit, kitten. I'd actually love to see you try." His voice is frustratingly calm. Scoffing, you scramble around the holding room, searching for some sharp object to bring into the match.

"I don't even have a weapon, how the hell am I supposed to fight someone?"

"Not someone, sweetie—something" Sylus cuts you off smoothly.

Before you can demand answers, the host's voice sings through the speaker.

"Ladies and gentlemen, all bets have been placed. I wonder who's going to win big tonight! So, without further ado, let's introduce our players!"

I wonder who's going to win big tonight! So, without further ado, let's introduce our players!" [https://img.wattpad.com/1f949b0970b00884d98ee6aa9fc2ac9e3acc607a/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f3070426c4e79454e4d5a2d3153773d3d2d313439393730323236352e313830643265613765333939613466353239333535393433383632382e706e67?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]

The arena door opens, and you stagger back, clutching the gold initial on your necklace. The deafening cheer of the crowd has a mocking undertone, but you shake your head. Get it together, you can do this. Taking a steady breath, you straighten and stalk forward with a tight jaw. The sunken arena swallows your small form in a cage of steel. The audience, dressed in tuxedos and elegant gowns, gazes down at you expectantly, sipping wine from the safety of their elevated seats and tables circling the arena. Your heart hammers as the host's voice swells again.

"Give it up for our honored guest! She will be defending her status against our latest weapon."

You swallowed hard. Weapon? The door on the opposing side of the arena ascends, smoke billowing out in grey heaps. Mechanical parts click as heavy steps shake the ground. Two red, hulking legs stride toward you as the humanoid mech makes its presence known, squaring its shoulders.

"Ladies and gentlemen, feast your eyes on one of our finest prototypes—meet the Apex N-II! It's not quite calibrated yet, but that's part of the fun, isn't it?" The host laughs, but droplets of sweat form over your brow. "And with that, let the game... begin!"

Instantly, the armored robot pushes off from across the battleground, the red orb on its face whirring toward you with unnerving speed [https://img.wattpad.com/bf70f6d3f51a1b4cb4ac8845a73e1714f9565b26/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f35327233394e6743595f704944773d3d2d313439393730323236352e313830643265616561616639363133303239353731303331393131372e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]

Instantly, the armored robot pushes off from across the battleground, the red orb on its face whirring toward you with unnerving speed. Desperately, you roll out of its trajectory, landing on all fours as its arm slams into the ground where you stood moments before. You watch as the dust rises from the impacted area. The robot jerks its hand out of the crushed ground, leaving a deep crater in its wake. It grinds its metallic head back in your direction, the red circle of its sensor tightening. Holy shi—

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

"Nice dodge, kitten." Sylus purrs through the comm.

Springing to your feet, you make a run for it. "Gods, I hate you so much right now, Sylus—what were you thinking, sticking me in a boxing match with that Apex-zilla?"

"That's no way to talk to the man saving your life, now is it?"

The red orb tracks your movements once more, but you notice it's staying in place for now. Recharging, you realize, allowing yourself a shaky exhale. Aside from the dress and heels, your body is conditioned to remain active for extended periods of time.

"Cut to the chase, psycho, how do you plan to get me out of this mess?" you snap, giving the delicate length of your dress a rough yank. The fabric rips. "Much better," you sigh as the scraps fall to the ground.

"Well, that's a nice look on you." Sylus teases, and you roll your eyes. "Listen, I have a wager for you," he continues. "It's a mutually beneficial arrangement. It looks like you could use a hand, particularly in the shape of a firearm. I happen to have a wide selection, if you're interested."

Red metal sings through the air before pummeling the ground next to you, narrowly missing you again. Applause falls over the audience, and you grit your teeth.

"If I'm interested? Wow, what could possibly give you that idea?" You tease, assuming a defensive crouch as you ease around the field. You weave through piles of debris scattered around the arena, attempting to obscure the robot's view. At this rate, you're on the fast road to exhaustion. You're also more than willing to bet you'll run out of juice way before that shiny red killing machine does.

"Now now, kitten, you don't want to bite the hand that feeds you. So, what'll it be? A pistol, or a painful death?"

With an irritated groan, you raise your finger to the earpiece. "Oh, give me a break—It's not like you're giving me much of a choice, here."

"Don't forget, I hold the cards right now. Does this mean you'd like to reject my gracious offer?"

Your pulse quickens and your throat tightens. The mech swivels its boxy head toward you, steady as it shifts into a different position than before. Mechanical whirring buzzes from its right arm as segments of its appendage slide into a new formation. Its vulnerable inner wiring peeks into view as you observe its transformation. Plates of smooth steel click together, reflecting light as if to send a warning.

"Is that thing turning into a laser cannon?!" You yell, blinking.

Sylus snickers. "Want some help, sweetie? Yes? No? Maybe so?"

"This is so unfair," you grumble.

"Tick-tock, kitten." Sylus growls.

A high-pitched tone fills the air, growing louder with each second as hot, concentrated sparks gather at the tip of the newly formed barrel. Your eyes widen, and you let out a gasp.

"Wait! I...I'll do it, I accept your wager. Just hurry up and give me something, anything, now! This hunk of metal is about to blow my head off!"

Sylus's villainous laugh spills through the communication device like bitter champagne. "See, I told you you're going to need me. Very well, I look forward to our new mutual use of each other. Cheers, your delivery is on its way."

A small, dark silhouette dips into the arena, leaving a trail of black feathers in its wake. Its swift form flutters towards you, and a white pistol falls from its talons into your grasp. Caw, caw! It calls out as it retreats overhead.

"You can thank Mephisto for that [https://img.wattpad.com/c0b641f50ca314f4961a0ab4fb916e4d65deef6d/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f7874594a6c477472714968664b773d3d2d313439393730323236352e313830643265636632326535393430643332353733393532323431342e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]

"You can thank Mephisto for that. You know, he was excited to meet you," Sylus says, sounding far too pleased with himself.

"Thank who?" You question as you work the pistol, preparing for the robot frying that's about to go down.

"The bird," he replies.

You pause for a moment before letting out a chuckle. "Of course, you have a pet crow," you jeer, sarcasm dripping from your tone.

"He doesn't like being called a pet," he responds.

"Good, it looks like Mephisto and I have something in common then, kitten," you mutter, cocking the pistol. Sylus lets out a deep, rich laugh laced with amusement and something else. You can't help but linger on the breathiness of his voice; this time, it sounds less like venom.

"I think I'm going to like you, Miss M," he hums. "Go on, kitten. Don't disappoint me."